


like, ever (The Pop Star Remix)

by littledust



Category: Lizzie Bennet Diaries
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bands, Gen, Sisters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-12 21:47:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4495872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littledust/pseuds/littledust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"When life gives you lemons," Lydia says, "you make a breakup album."</p>
<p>(Or: the one where the Bennet Sisters used to be a country pop trio and Lydia picks up the pieces of her old life to make a new one.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	like, ever (The Pop Star Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Diaphenia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diaphenia/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Lizzie B, Pop Star](https://archiveofourown.org/works/692892) by [Diaphenia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diaphenia/pseuds/Diaphenia). 



> Thank you for letting me play with your work, Diaphenia! This isn't quite the same universe as the original fic. I couldn't resist riffing on the Bennet Sisters: country band extraordinaire.

Lydia meets Gigi because Darcy and Lizzie start hosting family dinners. Meals around the table followed by board games were never Lydia's idea of fun until she followed the second worst breakup of all time with the actual worst breakup of all time (George Wickham and her band, respectively). Lydia has to bring the "party" part of dinner party, but least there are no paparazzi asking her _how she's coping_.

The truth? George Wickham can die in a fire, him and his stupid cover of "Somebody That I Used to Know" that only got famous because it was on _her_ YouTube channel. Lydia is coping just fine with that particular breakup. The fact that the Bennet Sisters are done for good is what has her heart crumpled up like an old sheet of paper. Lizzie was always more interested in the production side of things, and all the drama was her excuse to retire from the spotlight and work full-time at Charlotte's new record label. Jane never wanted the spotlight in the first place, and she looks happier about planning her upcoming wedding than she ever did touring the country.

It's like Lydia is the only one who cares about music anymore. Not that she can think of a way to tell that to her sisters without making them upset.

"What UP, Darce!" Lydia says when he opens the door, even though this house is big enough to need a butler or something.

"You can call me William, you know."

"Eyyyyy, Darcinator!" Lydia replies, making finger guns. He sighs.

Darcy walks her to the living room because he is a robotically perfect host. It's Jane and Bing's turn to cook, so it's just Lizzie and a pretty brunette sitting in the living room. Her head is turned away, so Lizzie assumes it's some new talent either Darcy or Lizzie is scouting (or that they're _both_ scouting, and they'll have another epic not-really-fight in the middle of dinner and then get all cozy again in the middle of dessert and make things awkward for literally everyone in a 50-mile radius). Weird that she's invited to family dinner night, though, but then the brunette turns around.

"Lydia, this is my little sister, Gigi," Darcy says unnecessarily.

"Nice to meet you," Lydia manages to say, instead of, _Your eyebrows are the same!_

"You too," Gigi says with a smile. "Lizzie's told me so much about you!" That smile, perfectly sweet, fades. "Um--about growing up together and music and stuff."

A large part of Lydia bristles, and she grits her teeth in a much less sweet smile to keep herself from saying something like, _So, not about our music careers getting totally ruined by Jerkface McTrashbaby?_ That's something she could scream at a reporter, not someone Lizzie speaks of so fondly. According to Lizzie, George Wickham actually broke Gigi's heart, so much that she even pulled her album before it could get released on the Pemberley label. At least Lydia is perfectly fine, and her next YouTube video is going to have a million more hits than that ridiculous cover video did when it was still on her channel, and then she is going to use every connection she has in the industry to _ban George Wickham from YouTube forever_.

George Wickham who, is what she's saying.

"Lizzie told you about me, but did she show you footage of how sick I am on guitar?" Lydia asks, tossing her hair. "I'm not just a vocalist, I'm the whole package!" She can see Lizzie's shoulders relax, and that stings a little. What, she's matured a lot.

That could have been the end of it right there--nice small talk, polite acquaintances, pleasantries over dinner--except Gigi says, "I've watched all your videos. I'd love to hear you play in person."

*

Lydia is a ham. Own it, right? Musicians have to love the spotlight, otherwise they go nuts and start drinking to cope with the stress of fame. The Bennet Sisters worked because Lydia likes playing off other people--it's the interaction that makes music fun for her, and it's why every time she tries to think of songs for a solo career, inspiration goes out the window. Yeah, she could have Lizzie produce her music, but without Jane to be the buffer, they'd probably murder each other.

Anyway, Lydia insists on dragging Gigi on "stage" with her after dinner, which is really just her sister's living room floor. They warm up with a couple of Beatles songs, feeling each other out--Lydia hasn't ever played with a classically trained pianist, and Gigi is coaxing unreal sound out of the baby grand that _of course_ William Darcy owns. Lizzie could do crazy awesome things like string together a million different keyboard samples and put them together on the spot, spinning her own universe, leaving Lydia breathless and playing catchup to her big sister. Here, her guitar fills out Gigi's piano and vice versa, and Lydia doesn't find herself wishing for a bassist or drums in the background.

Gig whips out a couple of standards like they're nothing, and even though Lydia's voice is totally not suited for _any_ jazz or Fleetwood Mac, they have fun. Jane and Bing are on the loveseat, and Darcy and Lizzie are on the couch, and they keep giving each other these smiles. But not, like, their usual gross couple smiles--these smiles are all about their little sisters.

Whatever. They can get as protective older sibling-y as they like, as long as they're a great audience.

"You're, like, super talented," Lydia says. "Do you know any Ke$ha?"

"Do I?" Gigi asks, raising an eyebrow, and launches into a stunning version of "Blow."

That song cements their partnership for the rest of time, basically.

*

Neither of them are taking summer classes, so they text music all the time. (Well, Lydia has always texted music all the time regardless of classes, but Gigi is a more dedicated student.) One jam session leads to another until Lydia spends half her time crammed into Gigi's tiny apartment until the inevitable neighbor noise complaint, and the other half of her time at home, because as her mother says, "Everyone is long since resigned to the noise." Lydia invites Mary, but she _is_ taking summer classes and secretly Lydia is relieved. Mary loves music but somehow it doesn't make her all that great at actually making music.

Gigi knows next to no country songs, but she makes up for it with an encyclopedic knowledge of Top 40 hits. She also knows a ton of the boring indie her brother likes, but Lydia almost doesn't mind when it's played live. Music is always better live, it's a fact.

When she actually falls asleep during a late night jam session, she wakes up when Gigi starts laughing. "Maybe three songs you don't know right after another is a little much," Gigi says, twisting on the piano bench to poke Lydia's shin with her foot.

"And people make fun of country for being all _my dog died, my girlfriend left me_ ," Lydia grumbles. She pokes Gigi back. "We would all get so mad when another reviewer wrote that the Bennet Sisters were pretty good for a little country band. Then they would compare us to the Dixie Chicks and end the review, no talking about our actual music."

Gigi nods. She never asks about the Bennet Sisters, which is why sometimes facts just slip out of Lydia's mouth. Every time it happens, it hurts a little less. That more than anything feels like a betrayal, though--the greatest thing that had ever happened to the Bennet girls, and Lydia ended it. None of them have to wear big hats and dark sunglasses outside now--Lizzie still gets recognized, but more as the up and coming record label dating one of the most established record labels in the music industry.

Which is why Lydia says, "Let's take a break and go to Carter's."

*

That becomes their thing, after. Even if they play at Gigi's, they drive back to the Bennet household after they finish and walk to Carter's. The place is small town now, comfortable despite the faded posters on the wall and perpetually sticky countertops. Lydia has learned to pace herself even without a manager peering over her shoulder. Besides, she's older now and hangovers are less fun. ("Oh, yes, you're _ancient_ ," Lizzie said after Lydia mentioned this once, but then she hugged her.)

Gigi always orders an old fashioned "because I'm a classic, or maybe a cliche," and Lydia always orders a Tom Collins because it's _summer_ and someone has to act like it. If Gigi feels like it, she'll have another old fashioned after the first. Lydia always switches to beer after, and never has more than two.

"It's gross, being so responsible," she says one night, wrinkling her nose. "I don't want to be a boring person, you know? Someone who never has fun."

Gigi shrugs. "Maybe you just have a different definition of fun. Music is fun. Drinking is fun. Barfing is not."

That makes Lydia crack up, because who knew a Darcy could say the word "barfing" with a straight face? William Darcy probably says things like, _Oh, heavens, I would vomit if not for the fact that I am a robot._ She shares as much with Gigi, who laughs fondly.

"He's a good big brother," she says. "He went to all my recitals. He's just not very good with his words. That was always my department." Gigi folds her hands and leans forward, resting her chin on them. "I have whole notebooks of lyrics. Some of them even have music to go with them."

"I haven't written anything in forever," Lydia says, motioning to the bartender for a two more drinks. Carter's is dead enough that he actually notices. "Um, I hope you're ready to talk crashed and burned careers, 'cause more booze is headed our way."

Gigi pauses for so long that Lydia's pulse flutters with panic--maybe she read the whole thing wrong and lost another collaborator. Then Gigi tilts her head onto just one hand and reaches out to Lydia with her other hand, squeezing for a second before she lets go. "I haven't talked about it in forever. My therapist says it's good to talk sometimes, as long as I don't let it define my life." 

Their drinks arrive and they both take a sip; Gigi to blink the tears out of her eyes and Lydia to keep her company. "You're still working in music," Lydia says. "He didn't take that away. Okay, so you don't have an album, so what? You could call your brother up right now and have one out with all of these newer, better songs you've been writing."

Now it's Lydia's turn to drink around the lump in her throat. Apparently Gigi has a million songs ready to go, but Lydia has nothing but guitar calluses on her fingers and an ache where her inspiration used to be. She drains half of her beer before she sets the glass back on the bar, then has to burp into her hand. Crap. No need to go all party girl in the middle of a super important conversation, Lydia.

Gigi looks down at her drink. "I don't think… I don't think I really want to be a solo artist. I like writing songs and I like playing music with my friends and my family, but the spotlight is a bit much." She takes a sudden, angry gulp and sets her drink back down so hard that it almost splashes over the rim. "George knew that about me. Knowing how nervous I was made it easy for him to start things."

"What a gigantic loser," Lydia says, because trash talking exes is one of her areas of expertise, thank you very much, and Jane never let her really get going on Bing while he was being an idiot. "How did he trick two awesome girls like us? No, don't answer that, because the answer is _he is Satan_. He even tricked Lizzie, and she's a super harsh judge of character."

"He can be charming." Gigi bites her lip. "I'd like to apologize for not saying anything about him. The things he does, they're so awful--"

"Hey, it's cool," Lydia says. "It's not like I go around telling people about all my mistakes. Plus, like, he could have tried not being the worst human being on the planet." Lizzie and Jane sat down with her after the whole sex tape thing went down, and they stroked her hair and told her it wasn't her fault while she cried. "Do you want another drink? I'm gonna finish this and get another."

"Whatever you're drinking," Gigi says. Lydia shrugs to conceal her surprise and puts two more beers on her tab. They're within walking distance of home, they'll be fine. Finishing the second beer so quickly has her fingers tingling and a pleasant buzz tickling her face. Three drinks and maybe she'll be able to talk about ending the Bennet Sisters.

"I had songwriter's block for a long time, too," Gigi says as Lydia drains her second drink. "I caught William listening to one of your songs--I think it was 'The Story of Us'--and it shook something loose. A whole song came out in one afternoon."

"Lizzie wrote that one, but Jane and I helped," Lydia says, grinning at the idea of being someone's inspiration. "Jane did 'Enchanted,' 'Mean' was all mine, and 'Mine' was all of ours. Which, um, confusing to explain to interviewers. Writing that album was so fun."

"You guys looked like you were having fun."

They're just words, just sounds put out into the atmosphere, but they hang in the air like a chord played on an untuned guitar. Lydia drinks too much too fast again, and the bubbles make her cough. Something to blame her watering eyes on, anyway.

"Sorry, sorry," Gigi says, rubbing Lydia's back. "I didn't mean anything by that, I know that it's hard. Well, I don't know exactly, because I wasn't in the same situation, I just--George Wickham sucks."

"Yeah, well." Lydia regrets ordering from the tap; if she had a bottle, she could peel off the label. She settles for picking at her napkin instead. "The Bennet Sisters was never gonna be a forever project. Lizzie and Jane are like you: love making music, but not so much with the stage. It was almost like the scandal was their excuse to split us up." Gigi's eyes go wide. "It's like it was my fault but wasn't at the same time. We needed a story that was bigger than a sex tape. We could have done something besides split up." Except that would have meant a return to screaming at Lizzie while Jane cried over Bing, too heartbroken to keep her sisters from each other's throats. Lydia closes her eyes.

"Breakups are the worst," Gigi says. Her hand is warm on Lydia's shoulder, back to rubbing small circles.

"They are," Lydia sighs.

They sip at their third drinks in silence after that. It's a clean silence, at least, like the quiet after a rainstorm. Lydia studies Gigi when the lights flare up for last call. She looks dainty in her little blue sundress, pianist's hands wrapped around her almost empty beer glass, but she's at least as strong as Lydia. Maybe more, with only a robot brother to catch her when she fell. Lydia bets her music kicks ass.

This time, it's Lydia who slams her glass down.

"When life gives you lemons," Lydia says, "you make a breakup album."

*

They don't tell anyone that's what they're doing, of course. Maybe Lydia's parents figure it out from all the stopping and starting as they work out the kinks in the new songs, but Lizzie and Jane aren't around when they practice at the Bennet household, and they don't play any of their new songs at family dinners or practice when Lizzie and Darcy are home.

Gigi's lyrics leave Lydia's in the dust, which is fine by Lydia--she'll take being able to write a fun hook and playful words over breaking everybody's hearts. Lydia cries when Gigi plays "All Too Well" for her for the first time, partly because it's the song that the Bennet Sisters inspired, but mostly because it's like a gorgeous punch in the heart.

"I can't believe you want me to sing this," Lydia says, blowing her nose. Ugh, crying is so gross.

"You have a stronger voice, and you know country better." Gigi smiles. "I'm your pianist for life, though, okay? No touring without me."

"Dealio," Lydia says, and they seal it with a high five.

It's like the old days of writing music with her sisters, when they barely knew four chords between them but their parents' applause was enough encouragement to keep going. And slow, guilty realization creeps in: it's _better_ than writing with her sisters, because Gigi doesn't get mean when she disagrees about a song. Gigi digs in her heels about keeping "I Knew You Were Trouble" entirely pop, zero country stylings allowed in this song, Lydia.

"Fine, it's your song," Lydia grumps at last, and then writes a pop song of her own about feeling 22. She mixes in a little country because hello, she has to stay true to her roots, and she can hear the way Lizzie and Jane will laugh when they hear the "make fun of our accents" line.

If they ever get around to playing for anyone, that is. Their handful of songs are good but rough, with holes that production needs to fill. After three Bennet Sisters albums, Lydia can map out a timeline in her head: six more months of songwriting, then another year of taking the songs apart and building them back up again. That's if they stick to a tight schedule, if _you make a breakup album_ ever turns into more than a punchline, if their talk about touring ever turns serious, if if if.

Lydia doesn't want to ask until she's sure how she feels. It's probably the same with Gigi, who sometimes laughs too long when they "joke" about whether they'll go with Pemberley or Lu & Bennet for their record label.

July melts away into August, and they both start getting information for fall semester. Their time is running out to make a decision, and all Lydia can do is play with the bassline for "I Knew You Were Trouble." She's not good at keeping secrets, doesn't bottle things up like Gigi, but if she says anything, who knows what will spill out?

*

In the end, it's a careless mistake that gives them away. Lydia's better than she was, but she's not perfect. In a crowded room, she'd still stand out as the person most likely to screw things up on impulse.

The family dinner jam sessions are less frequent now that Lydia and Gigi spend 24/7 glued to their instruments. Darcy, of all people, says, "May I make a request for some after-dinner entertainment?"

Gigi is already nodding her head as Lydia says, "Yeah, I've always wanted to see you do standup." Lizzie has to spit her water back into her glass because she's laughing so hard, so Lydia counts the joke as a resounding success and goes to tune the guitar that lives next to the baby grand now. Playing with Gigi is second nature now; there's no more hesitation in Lydia's guitar playing as she waits for Jane's drums or Lizzie's keyboard to join in. Part of her still wonders how Lizzie and Jane can just _watch_ instead of play along, but most of her gets lost in the music and that's enough to pull all of her in.

After they warm up their adoring crowd, Lydia starts strumming the chords of Shania Twain's "You're Still the One." (Which is hella cheesy but hella fun to play, and one of the first songs she learned.) She closes her eyes, speeding up a little and shuffling some notes, and then without even a key change, she's in the middle of "I Knew You Were Trouble," Gigi's words on her lips but no Gigi backing her up on piano.

Lydia stops, guitar pick falling from suddenly numb fingers.

"It's good, it's really good!" Jane says, her whole face lighting in a smile. "Don't stop."

Darcy is looking at Gigi, and those two must have some weird telepathic conversation with their eyebrows, because his face twitches a few times before he says, "Yes, please."

"It's not my song," Lydia says, because Lizzie has this _knowing_ expression on her face, like this song is Lydia's secret pain about George Wickham. And yeah, the whole thing started off as a breakup album, but Lydia is the one picking up Gigi's pieces so they can both have a fabulous life. "It's, um, sorry, Gigi."

Gigi, seated at the piano, looks pale but composed, not to make a truly awful pun. "No, it's all right," she says. "Lydia and I have been collaborating on some new material. It's sort of… country and pop and a lot of things at once."

"Enough to make an album?" Lizzie asks, and Lydia can just _see_ the business suit descending over her sister's usual button-down plaid shirt.

"Well, we have a lot to say," Gigi says, laughing a little. "Life gave Lydia and me some lemons, so we're making them into an album. Sorry, Lydia, I just stole your joke."

It feels like there's a giant fist wrapped around Lydia's lungs, squeezing out all of the air. "It's fine," she says, though she can barely hear her own voice over the roaring in her ears. "We've been keeping it on the D/L but I think we could totally release an EP. Or some YouTube videos, I don't think anyone still uses MySpace."

Darcy leans forward, and at least picturing _him_ in a business suit isn't that much at odds with the way he always dresses. "Do you have a title for this project?"

When Lydia laughs, it sounds like guitar strings snapping. She can feel Jane and Gigi's eyes on her, their worried frowns, but all she can see is Lizzie and Darcy, ready to _produce_ them. "Does it have to have a title? I bet the band breaks up anyway."

_That_ makes the business suits disappear. Lizzie's mouth is open, her eyes wide. For once, she has nothing to say.

Lydia is old enough to know that storming out of the house is ridiculous, but not too old to mutter, "Bye, later," and rush out of the house.

*

Lydia mopes, turns off her phone for 12 hours (only eight of them spent sleeping, _what_ ), turns her phone back on and doesn't read any of the texts, eats too many popsicles, and mopes some more. She can't think of a single way out of this without coming across as a little kid throwing a tantrum. So what, her sisters took her favorite toy away and now she can't even let them see her new favorite toy, much less share it? _Grow up, Lydia,_ as Lizzie would say.

"I thought I _was_ growing up," Lydia mutters to the Lizzie in her head.

Something snaps when Lydia notices the popsicle stick stuck to the side of her trash can. She takes out the trash and sprays down the can. Then she might as well do a load of laundry, because she's about to run out of clean bras. Next comes folding the laundry and putting it away instead of letting it live in the basket like always. She takes a shower and sings Carrie Underwood at the top of her lungs, then switches to "22," which has the best hook ever until she writes her next best hook.

Because yeah, somehow Lydia's brain got cleaned along with her room. Her songwriting is still there.

_Sorry I went off the grid,_ she texts to Gigi. She should also text Jane and Lizzie to let them know she's still alive, but that means answering questions about why she's so upset, and just no. One awkward conversation at a time.

_Hold on, I'm coming over,_ Gigi texts back. _Give me an hour or so?_

_You got it._ Lydia tucks her phone in her pocket and goes back to cleaning. She sticks her tongue out at her dad when he walks by her dusting the living room furniture and says something about dying of shock. "I'm having company," she explains, then sneezes. Dusting always makes her nose itch for hours.

"Company? I thought Gigi was my fourth daughter," he says, but softens it with a smile.

Gigi rings the doorbell about twenty minutes after Lydia's cleaning mania passes. Her smile goes nervous as soon as she sees Lydia, and reflexively Lydia checks her hair with one hand--is there a dust bunny caught in it, or something? "Come on in," Lydia says, all but pulling Gigi inside. The faster she gets the apology over with, the faster they can get back to music.

"Sorry, sorry, I hope you'll still talk to me," Gigi says, and then she opens the front door again, which is weird, and there are two people there, Lizzie and Jane, like they were just waiting outside--

"Bye!" Gigi says, and shuts herself outside the house, leaving Lydia to face her sisters alone.

Lydia could be angry at her for that, but instead she's just… coming up empty.

"So," Lizzie says, with a helpless little shrug. "She has a habit of doing that. Um. But I thought we should talk."

" _We_ thought we should talk," Jane adds softly.

There's that roaring sound in her ears again. Lydia hugs her arms close to her body and says, "Well. Then let's sit down, if we have to talk."

The next five minutes are some of the most awkward of Lydia's life, because all of them end up just staring at each other in the living room, then looking away, then staring at each other again. Not even Jane knows what to say, and her hesitant smile keeps flickering in and out. Lizzie keeps biting her lip, but at least she doesn't look mad.

"I, uh," Lydia says at last. God. Why isn't every part of being an adult as easy as cleaning the house? "I kind of freaked out, I know. Sorry for ruining dinner and stuff."

"You didn't ruin it at all," Jane said. "We're just worried about you."

Lydia steals a glance at Lizzie, who looks down and starts picking at a loose thread on her shirt. "I'm over George, okay? I hate him to death, but Gigi wrote all of the sad breakup songs because he really did break her heart, and--"

"Are you angry with me?" Lizzie asks, her voice so small that Lydia swears she can feel her own heart stop, just for a second.

Jane looks between them with wide eyes as the silence stretches on. All Lydia can think of is how totally stupid she must look right now, mouth hanging open as she searches for the right words. She's a songwriter, and she's coming up with nothing, just a hot rush of feelings all mixed up together, _yes_ and _no_ and _maybe_ at the same time.

"I miss the band," Lydia says at last, and then the tears start falling. "I wasn't ready for it to be over. I don't want this new thing with Gigi to be over, I don't want _us_ to be over because I did something stupid, and you guys are all moved out, and it's like we're breaking up again, and I just--I don't know."

For once, it's Lizzie who starts the hug, moving close to Lydia and wrapping her arms around her. Jane is next, kissing Lydia's temple in her biggest big sisterly way. "It's a lot of change, isn't it," Jane says, because of course Jane understands everything. "So much is changing, and you've lost enough that it feels like you're losing it all."

Lydia sobs a little, and both of her sisters hug her closer at the same time.

"You're still our sister, okay?" Lizzie says, and she follows with a sound that's suspiciously like a sniffle. "Us breaking up the band doesn't change that. I'm still going to gut George Wickham and let you use his entrails as guitar strings."

" _Ew_ ," Lydia says, and laughs through the lump in her throat. "He wouldn't even sound good anyway."

"Think of the poor guitar," Jane says, and then all three of them burst into semi-hysterical laughter.

The conversation turns into reminiscing about the band, some stories Lydia only half-remembers because she was so young when they first declared themselves the Bennet Sisters. Then there are questions about Lydia and Gigi's new project, so Lydia tells them all about her breakup album comment, how the whole thing started as half joke and half revenge but turned into the first real songs she's written in forever. The story spills out of her without any more tears, and the persistent ache in Lydia's chest eases with every word until it's gone, borne away on the sound of her voice.

_Let's do it. Let's make this album happen for real,_ Lydia texts Gigi later. _Also, thanks._

_No problem,_ comes the instant response. Gigi must have been sitting by her phone, biting her nails. Lydia can't feel too guilty--that's what you get when you interfere, even when your friend kind of desperately needs the interference.

_Anyway, I thought of the best new song title, and now I have to write something to go with it,_ Lydia taps out. _Can't let you get all the songwriting credits, I mean._

*

So maybe it takes Lydia a little longer than she claimed to get over George Wickham. She and Gigi get tipsy one night and watch that stupid cover of that stupid song that certain people had _no right to cover_ , and they make fun of it the whole time. They watch it again and they both cry a little, because what a waste of oxygen. After the third time, it becomes boring and they start watching old music videos from the early 2000's.

"It all comes back," Lydia says, lying on the floor several beers later. (Maybe now she's just a house party kind of girl. _Whaaaat._ ) "Like, if you were me and I were you, and we dated Wickham again, it would be so 'Oops! I Did It Again.' Except he played with our hearts."

" _Got lost in the game_ ," Gigi sings, and collapses on the floor next to Lydia in a fit of helpless giggles.

"We have written, like, a hundred songs for this breakup album."

"29 songs, last count."

Lydia turns her head to stick her tongue out at Gigi. "This has to be the last one. We're gonna write one last breakup song, and he is _gone_. Everything else is gonna be about other people, or stories we made up."

"Deal," Gigi says. "Um. Should we wait until we're sober enough to play instruments? And it's not three in the morning?"

"But inspiration!" Lydia says.

And that's how they write "We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together." Lydia names the song, of course--no more Wickham, no more Bennet Sisters, like, ever. But all those breakups gave her a song that is total hit single material, and besides. She gets to keep her family and her friends and her music.

"What if we went with a third record label?" Gigi asks over one family dinner, as Lizzie and Darcy are having yet another "argument" over who gets to produce their album.

"Tempting," Lydia says. Raising her voice, she yells, "No foreplay in front of your dinner guests or family! And we're both!"

**Author's Note:**

> I am not creative enough to come up with my own songs, so all of Lydia and Gigi's "original songs" come from the album _Red_ by Taylor Swift. Nothing better for country pop, am I right? The Bennet Sisters' songs come from Taylor Swift's earlier albums. The only other song mentioned is Gotye's "Somebody That I Used to Know," which is so deeply hilarious to imagine Wickham singing.


End file.
